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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939018">Terrors Of The Night</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkoutsidethebex/pseuds/thinkoutsidethebex'>thinkoutsidethebex</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Once Upon A Time Collection [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Marvel, Marvel (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>F/M, M/M</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 10:07:43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>11,608</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27939018</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/thinkoutsidethebex/pseuds/thinkoutsidethebex</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>The Headless Horseman has plagued the residents of Sleepy Hollow for years, a benevolent ghost scaring visitors from their village. Once he escalates from a simple haunting to something more violent, Peter Parker is called in to help. Can he solve the mystery and help free Sleepy Hollow from its dark curse?</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Peter Parker/You</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Once Upon A Time Collection [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1660831</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Terrors Of The Night</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Crisp autumn leaves floated down through the air, covering the ground and crunching beneath the feet of bundled-up New Yorkers. Peter Parker stared out his window at the bustling city below with a full heart. Horses clopped along, some pulling carriages and others with single riders on their backs, and pedestrians waved to each other as they passed. New York was thriving, growing and expanding every day as it charged toward the upcoming 19th century, and Peter loved being there to see it. As he packed the few important possessions he had into his leather case, his eyes found the letter from Quentin Beck laid open on his desk. He’d read it enough times to memorize it, but there was one part that seemed to stand out from the rest.</p><p>
  <em>Tony always spoke of you with the utmost praise and admiration. I pray, for my own sake and the sake of all the residents of Sleepy Hollow, that his faith in you was not misplaced.</em>
</p><p>Peter knew that Beck didn’t likely mean for his words to burn like they did, but the ache of losing Tony was still all too fresh. The rest of Beck’s letter had detailed a string of grisly murders that had rocked the small farming town. Three deaths had been reported over two weeks, which was more than had ever been recorded in their entire history, and the local officials were all at a loss. According to Beck, Tony had praised Peter’s proclivity for all sciences, particularly the blossoming science of forensics which is what had prompted him to ask for Peter’s help. Peter was slightly hesitant at first, partly due to the grief that still clung to his heart, but the desperation of Beck’s words struck a chord in him. And so it came that he stood in his room, gathering clothes and any books he thought might be useful and readying himself for his travels. Once his case was packed and set, he called for Happy, the head of the house.</p><p>“S-see to it that the house is cared for while I’m away,” Peter ordered hesitantly, earning a nod from Happy as he quickly walked out the door. The carriage he’d chartered was waiting for him and Peter climbed aboard, ready to make the journey to Sleepy Hollow. </p><p>All of this was new to Peter. He hadn’t grown up in any type of extravagance, having been raised by his aunt and uncle after his parents died and up until he’d met Tony, Peter had been used to a very modest lifestyle. When Ben and May passed not so many years ago, Tony had taken him in. The Stark family had been one of the wealth and power in New York for as long as anyone could remember, and when the confirmed bachelor Tony Stark had taken Peter in as his ward it caused a mild scandal among the elites. Even bigger was the scandal surrounding Tony’s death and the discovery that he had left everything he had to the orphaned Peter Parker. Peter tried his best not to dwell on the reasons behind it, despite the fact that he now had a house with a full staff and more money than he could spend in two lifetimes. Instead, he leaned back against his seat as the carriage started on its way, drifting off soon after. </p><p>The sun was waning in the sky when the carriage gave a particularly rough jolt, pulling Peter from an otherwise sound sleep. He rubbed his eyes and yawned softly, before opening the curtain to take in his surroundings. There, nestled in the valley below, was the village of Sleepy Hollow. Peter was struck by how much the quiet little town contrasted with his home. As the carriage made its way down the hill and closer to the lights of the houses, he could tell that Sleepy Hollow was aptly named. Where Manhattan seemed to grow by leaps and bounds every day, Sleepy Hollow still maintained many old-fashioned customs and contraptions Peter hadn’t seen since he was a child. Many of them, he guessed, dated back to before the war. He watched the houses slip past his window one-by-one as they made their way to Quentin Beck’s estate. As they rode, a small church came into view and along with it, a graveyard. Standing in the churchyard and towering over the tombstones of Sleepy Hollow’s former residents was an ancient and gnarled beech tree. The mere sight of its knotted branches reaching out for him through the night air was enough to send a shiver down Peter’s spine. He shut the curtain quickly and hugged his coat tight around him.</p><p>Quentin Beck’s home stood at the far end of the village and was much larger and more ornate than any of the others. From what Peter understood he had made his fortune much in the same way Tony had; by inventing. Beck had chosen the agricultural field as opposed to Tony’s assistance with the military and government, but he’d clearly been successful, nonetheless. Lights burned in every window as Peter exited the carriage and thanked the driver. He took his case and stepped inside, only to be greeted by a raucous party. People were laughing and drinking all around him, none of them seeming to notice his arrival. Peter was surprised to find such merriment in a town full of death. Slowly, he snuck his way through the crowd in search of his host.</p><p>“You must be Peter Parker,” said a voice in his ear, causing Peter to jump slightly. He turned to find himself face-to-face with a beautiful young girl, seemingly close to his own age. She wore a satin gown of deep blue and smiled brightly at him while she awaited his answer. </p><p>“I-I am, yes,” he stammered finally. “And you are?”</p><p>“Y/N,” she answered softly. “Quentin Beck’s daughter. My father and I have been expecting you.”</p><p>“I didn’t know Quentin had a daughter,” Peter blurted out, immediately flushing crimson in embarrassment. Rather than take offense, Y/N merely smirked and looked him up and down.</p><p>“And I didn’t expect our guest to be so handsome,” she said, starting to walk away. “Come with me. I’ll take you to my father.” Peter could only manage a meek nod as he followed her through the house, his knuckles white on the handle of his case. She floated through the crowd with ease, avoiding all manner of drunken and rowdy guests along the way.</p><p>“Is it just you and your father here?” Peter asked, desperate to recover from his embarrassing introduction. “Such a large house would surely feel empty for just the two of you.”</p><p>“It’s been just us and the staff since we lost my mother two years ago,” she answered, ducking under the arm of a drunken storyteller. “We have some staff but for the most part, it’s just my father and I.” Peter’s reply caught in his throat as they continued, unsure what he could say without putting his foot further into his mouth. Instead, he followed her into a room with a great roaring fire in the hearth and a smaller crowd than the others. Standing in front of the fire, loudly telling a hunting story, was Quentin Beck.</p><p>“Father,” she said when the laughter died. “May I present your guest, Peter Parker.” Quentin’s face lit up as he strode forward and clapped Peter on the shoulder. </p><p>“Mr. Parker!” he exclaimed, looking him over with a grin. “So glad you could make it. Please, enjoy the festivities.”</p><p>“Isn’t this an odd time to be having a party?” Peter asked, looking around the room.</p><p>“Quite the contrary,” Beck protested, taking another drink. “Times of great adversity are precisely the time for parties such as this. They lift the spirits, you see.” Peter nodded slowly, even though he didn’t quite agree, and cleared his throat.</p><p>“If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to be briefed right away,” Peter said. “I should like to begin my investigation tomorrow.”</p><p>“Ah! Good man!” Beck chuckled, finishing his drink before turning to his daughter. “Y/N, my dear, please send the Boys to my study. And see to our guests while I’m busy.”</p><p>“Of course, father,” she said, looking Peter up and down before vanishing back into the crowd. Before Peter could say anything Beck had his arm around his shoulders and was leading him to the study at the back of the house. </p><p>Inside the study was another, smaller fireplace, already lit by a woman standing inside.</p><p>“Carol! Good,” Beck said with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here. This is Peter Parker, the one I was telling you about. Peter, this is Carol Danvers, the mayor of Sleepy Hollow.” Peter furrowed his brow as he shook her hand in greeting. </p><p>“S-she’s the mayor?” he asked. Carol quirked an eyebrow and looked back at him.</p><p>“Is there a problem?” she asked, withdrawing her hand and folding her arms over her chest. </p><p>“N-no, of course not!” Peter exclaimed, stumbling over his words. “I just…I’ve never met a woman mayor before.”</p><p>“Well, now you have,” Carol said, turning as the door opened again. Peter turned with her as several people entered the room. Six men and a petite, red-haired woman entered, taking various positions around them.</p><p>“Good, everyone is here,” Beck smiled as he beckoned them inside. “Peter, I would like you to meet the Sleepy Hollow Boys: Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, Sam Wilson, Scott Lang, and Natasha Romanoff. Our sheriff, Clint Barton, was one of the unfortunate victims of late so they have graciously offered to take up patrols and help keep the Hollow safe.” Peter looked over the group as they nodded their introductions. After embarrassing himself in front of Carol he thought it best not to say anything about Natasha being in a group called the Sleepy Hollow Boys and instead just nodded in return. </p><p>“Welcome to Sleepy Hollow,” Steve said as he leaned against the wall. Beck then indicated the remaining two men and continued. </p><p>“This is our town physician Bruce Banner,” he said, pointing him out. “And our preacher, Thor Odinson.” Everyone nodded to Peter and turned to look at Beck, waiting. Quentin walked behind his desk in front of the fireplace, sighing softly. As he walked, a loud creak came from one of the floorboards under him, but Peter was the only one who seemed to notice. </p><p>“We can’t thank you enough for coming to help us,” he said quietly. “The murders have plagued our town and our people and frankly, none of us know what to do at this point.”</p><p>“Were all the victims killed in the same manner?” Peter asked, pulling a notebook from his pocket. The others in the room shifted nervously in their spots, looking to Beck to answer. </p><p>“What have you heard about Sleepy Hollow?” Beck asked, looking down at him. Peter looked up to find every eye in the room was on him. He cleared his throat and shifted uncomfortably. </p><p>“W-well, one doesn’t like to give in to rumors and gossip-“</p><p>“What have you heard?” Natasha cut in. Peter gulped gently and answered. </p><p>“Most people say that Sleepy Hollow is a close-knit community,” he said quietly. “The people I know that have come here told me outsiders aren’t generally welcomed for more than a few days.”</p><p>“And?” Thor pressed. Peter avoided all their eyes as he continued. </p><p>“There are a few rumors,” he mumbled. “That anyone who stays for more than a few days becomes afflicted in some way or another. They’re said to have visions of some terrible fate that will befall them if they stay. All of them left not long after that.” Quentin chuckled softly and walked back around his desk, creaking the floorboard again, and went to the bar at the side of the room. He poured himself another drink, draining half of it in one gulp, before speaking again.</p><p>“For the last sixteen years, Sleepy Hollow has been haunted,” Quentin said flatly, causing Peter to freeze in his spot. “The story of who he is vary based on who you ask. Some people think he’s a Hessian, still determined to keep the Americans under British rule. Others think he’s a fallen American soldier looking for his revenge. The one thing everyone agrees on is what he looks like. He rides from the churchyard every night on a great, black steed, a huge broadsword in his hand, and without a head. Up until recently, he was merely a menacing presence, but now…well now he’s progressed.”</p><p>“A-A Headless horseman?” Peter asked skeptically.</p><p>“I doubted it at first too,” Dr. Banner said. “But I assure you he’s real. And very dangerous.”</p><p>“My own brother was the most recent victim,” Thor said, his eyes watering slightly. “Found just outside the churchyard without his head.”</p><p>“He’s decapitating them?” Peter asked in shock. He was so caught up in the story that he momentarily forgot that it was an absurd fairy tale.</p><p>“Not just decapitation,” Quentin answered. “He takes the heads with him. The prevailing theory is that he’s looking to replace the one he lost.”</p><p>The room fell eerily silent as Peter considered the story he’d been told. On the one hand, he was far too old to believe in ghost stories. The tale the residents of Sleepy Hollow had spun was fantastic, to say the least, but he had spent years studying science and science told him this was impossible. There was no such thing as ghosts. At the same time, he looked around at the faces of the people in the room with him and he could see that they all believed what they were telling him. The fear that radiated off of them hung in the air like a shawl, pressing in on Peter from all sides. Even the more brave-looking people in the room had sweat dotting their brows. Rather than make a snap decision, Peter decided to stay with the facts.</p><p>“Have all the victims been found by the churchyard?” he asked quietly.</p><p>“No,” Steve answered. “Only Loki. They’ve been found all over but never outside the city limits.” Peter nodded and took some notes with shaking hands. Slowly, he stood and put his things back in his case.</p><p>“I will need to inspect the bodies,” Peter said, his voice cracking slightly. “And the crime scenes as well.”</p><p>“Whatever you need,” Carol said. “We’re desperate.”</p><p>“My home is open to you for as long as you’re in Sleepy Hollow,” Quentin said. “There’s a room upstairs that’s already made up for you. Please, make yourself at home.” Peter nodded once and looked around the room again. </p><p>“I promise to do whatever I can to help,” Peter promised, turning to go.</p><p>“Stay for the party!” Beck called out. “Allow us to welcome you properly.” Before he could protest, the Sleepy Hollow Boys had rushed him back into the party, keeping his hands full of food and drink all night. The noise of the party was so loud that no one inside the house was able to hear the piercing scream that pierced the night air.</p><p>~</p><p>Peter awoke the next morning with sweat clinging to his brow. His sleep had been fitful and plagued with nightmares. He wasn’t sure exactly what he’d dreamed, just that he felt uneasy the entire night, as though he hadn’t been alone in his room. With a soft groan, he rose from his bed and readied himself for the day. After the tale he’d heard of the Headless Horseman, Dr. Banner had agreed to let Peter into the morgue to inspect the bodies. He gathered a couple of things he thought he’d need, some notebooks and a book about forensics, before heading downstairs. </p><p>Upon entering the kitchen, Peter was greeted by the most delicious smell he could recall. Y/N was there, moving gracefully around the room as she cooked. </p><p>“Good morning, Peter,” she greeted without turning around.</p><p>“How did you know it was me?” he asked in surprise.</p><p>“Father has already left for the day,” she said as she finally turned around. “You’re the only other person here.”</p><p>“I thought you said you had staff here as well?” he questioned, slipping on his satchel. She brushed her hands off on her apron and looked down.</p><p>“Normally we do,” she answered. “But I’m afraid the Horseman’s scared off quite a few people. Many have fled for New York or Boston out of fear.” Her voice wavered slightly as she spoke and Peter wanted to comfort her somehow, but seeing as they were still practically strangers, he simply nodded. </p><p>“So, you believe in the Horseman?” he asked, trying his best not to sound judgmental. </p><p>“The Horseman has been haunting the village for as long as I can remember,” she said softly. “Everyone here believes.”</p><p>“But he only recently became violent,” Peter remarked. “Does anyone know why?” Y/N dropped her gaze and turned back around, going back to work on breakfast.</p><p>“Not that they’ve told me,” she said. “But that’s why Father sent for you.” Her sudden change in demeanor wasn’t lost on Peter, but rather than call attention to it he pressed on.</p><p>“Have you ever seen him?” he asked quietly. Peter watched as her hands stilled on the dough she was kneading. He could only see a sliver of her face, but it was enough to see the color drain from it. She took a deep steadying breath before continuing her work.</p><p>“Mr. Barnes is out in the stables,” she said, her tone darker. “He’s readying one of the horses for you to use. Father will meet you at Dr. Banner’s. Good luck.” Peter flinched slightly at the change in her voice and left without another word. He gathered the Horseman was a touchy subject with Y/N and mentally cursed himself for bringing it up.</p><p>Bucky was waiting for him in the stables as promised, saddling a large chestnut steed.</p><p>“Good morning,” Bucky said as he fastened the straps of the saddle. “Quentin asked me to ready a horse for you. This is Daredevil. He’s gentler than he looks so you should be able to make do.” Peter looked the horse over nervously. He’d never been a great rider, but he supposed in a town where the only coaches were the chartered once that brought in outsiders, this was the best way to get around. </p><p>“Thank you, Mr. Barnes,” Peter said. He grabbed the saddle tight and hoisted himself up as best he could. After a couple of awkward tries, he managed to get himself up onto the saddle. Bucky either didn’t notice his failed attempts or blissfully decided to ignore Peter’s fumbling and mounted his own steed beside him.</p><p>“Quentin said we’re starting at the doctors?” he asked, taking the reins in his hands.</p><p>“That’s the plan,” Peter agreed, urging his horse forward. They’d barely made it off Beck’s property when a bell started ringing frantically in the town square. Men on horseback raced toward them at full gallop, followed by townspeople running and shouting.</p><p>“Steve!” Bucky yelled at one of them, furrowing his brow. “What’s happened?” Steve slowed his horse to a stop in front of them, looking the two men over with a pained expression on his face.</p><p>“They’ve found another body,” he said solemnly. “In the western woods.”</p><p>“That’s the farthest out he’s ventured,” Bucky remarked. “Do we know who it is?”</p><p>“We’re about to find out,” Steve replied. “Mr. Parker, you should come too. Maybe once you’ve seen his work you’ll understand.” Peter’s knuckles were white on the pommel of his saddle. Fear had stripped him of his voice so all he could do was nod as the three of them took off toward the woods. </p><p>By the time they arrived at the site of the murder a small crowd had formed. Peter recognized Carol and Thor from the previous night as well as Quentin and the remaining Sleepy Hollow Boys. Steve and Bucky dismounted in tandem, striding over toward the body.</p><p>“Who is it?” Steve asked, his eyes focused on Quentin. </p><p>“Stephen Strange,” Quentin responded with a sigh. Gasps rose from the crowd as Steve’s eyes finally flitted down to the body.</p><p>“You’re sure?” Bucky asked, his gaze following Steve’s.</p><p>“He has his cloak,” Carol confirmed. “And that ring only he wears. It’s him.” Behind the crowd, Peter had finally managed to dismount, somewhat loudly, and moved to join them. He eyed the body, fighting back the bile that rose in his throat at the decapitated form on the ground. The leaves around it looked almost like a funeral bed, ready to carry this Strange man on to the afterlife. As he looked over the scene, something seemed off.</p><p>“Where’s the blood?” he asked, louder than he intended. The chatter from the crowd stopped immediately and everyone turned slowly with stunned looks on their faces. </p><p>“What?” Quentin asked. Even though he whispered, his voice seemed to echo throughout the small clearing. Peter gulped and looked around before speaking again. </p><p>“Where’s the blood?” he repeated. “If he was killed here there should be blood spatter from the blow and then the…rest. But I don’t see so much as a drop.”</p><p>“You’re concerned with missing blood but not a missing head?” Steve asked sharply.</p><p>“The missing head is also a cause for concern,” Peter said with a nod. “But that’s obvious. In forensics, we must look at the inconspicuous and draw our conclusions from that.” Peter pulled a book from his bag and moved to crouch next to the body. He looked it over, his brow furrowing in concentration. </p><p>“Where did you find him?” Sam asked quietly, earning a shush from Quentin.</p><p>“The head was taken in one clean swipe,” Peter remarked, turning in his crouch and pointing toward the feet. “He rode from that direction, on a large horse, and at great speed. He made the kill then doubled back to collect the head before riding off.” Peter turned back to where the head should be and leaned down, getting as close as he could without touching the body.</p><p>“You can tell all that from such a short look?” Thor asked, sounding almost nervous.</p><p>“Once you understand the science of forensics you can read it just like a book,” Peter remarked, flipping a few pages and consulting his book. “This wound has been cauterized. That’s why there’s no blood. The blade that took this man’s head was searing hot.”</p><p>“Hellfire,” Carol whispered. “The Horseman really is sent from Hell for us all.” Peter stood quite abruptly and put his book back in his bag. Though his nerves were frayed as they’d ever been, he relied on his science to keep his wits about him. He reminded himself over and over that ghosts weren’t real and that there was a logical explanation for all of this, he just needed to find it.</p><p>“I shall ride tonight,” he said, swallowing the fear that cracked his voice. “I need to be able to see this so-called ghost in person. I would ask that the Sleepy Hollow Boys ride with me. Six of use against one of him will surely give the Horseman pause.” Several members of the crowd balked at him and one laughed outright. </p><p>“I like him,” Natasha said. “He’s bold.”</p><p>“He’s an idiot,” Sam said. “The Horseman doesn’t care how many of us there are. He’ll mow us all down and claim our heads as trophies!”</p><p>“Enough!” Steve yelled, silencing the rabble. “If Peter needs our help then he’ll have it. End of discussion.” He nodded once to Peter who swore he saw the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Steve turned back to Bucky and started a hushed conversation, as did many of the rest of the crowd, leaving Peter to feel like he was intruding on some private moment. As he was about to mount his horse and leave, Thor approached him quickly, his face pale and his hair disheveled from running his hands through it.</p><p>“Mr. Parker. A word?” he asked, his voice low despite the loud conversations that had broken out around them. Peter nodded and let go of the pommel, keeping the reins in his hands. </p><p>“Is everything alright?” he asked. Thor’s eyes darted around the clearing and Peter noticed the way he wrung his hands and shifted nervously in his place.</p><p>“I fear not,” the preacher responded. “Did you mean it when you said you were here to help us? All of us?”</p><p>“I did,” Peter said, his voice hushed “Is there something you want to tell me?” Thor shook his head and looked back at the young man. Peter could feel the stress and fear rolling off him in waves, almost pulling the frightened man off his feet.</p><p>“N-no. Not here. But I’m afraid, Mr. Parker. First my brother and now his…,” Thor trailed off and looked over his shoulder at the body being loaded into the cart behind him. “I fear my head might be the next in the Horseman’s sights.” He was whispering now, and Peter had to lean in close to hear him.</p><p>“What makes you think that?” he asked. </p><p>“My brother knew everything about everyone in this village,” Thor said, shifting in his spot. “Secrets people would kill for and others people would die to protect.”</p><p>“Thor, what are you trying to tell me?” Peter asked. Thor opened his mouth to answer when the crack of a whip sounded behind them. They both jumped and turned to watch the cart carrying Stephen Strange’s body depart. Quentin Beck watched from across the clearing, but his eyes focused on Thor rather than the deceased. What little color remained in the preacher’s face evaporated under his gaze and he began to shake his head again.</p><p>“Not here,” he repeated, looking back to Peter. “Tonight. Before you ride for the Horseman. Meet me in the churchyard and whatever you do, don’t trust Quentin Beck.” Peter’s eyes widened and he tried to ask Thor to explain, but the preacher had already strode across the clearing and mounted his horse to gallop away.</p><p>Sundown was quickly approaching as Peter made his way to the church. Thor’s words had thundered in his head all day, and try as he might he couldn’t make sense of them. When they returned to the house after Peter inspected the other bodies, Beck had offered to assist him with more research, but Peter declined as politely as he could. His feigned chivalry seemed to appease his host, who retired to his study for the rest of the afternoon. Peter returned to his quarters to read, his silence only broken by the creaking of the floorboard as Quentin paced below him.</p><p>“Thor?” Peter called into the fog that coated the churchyard. No answer came, save the wind flitting through the trees. He dismounted and looked over the yard for any signs of life. He took a small step forward when he heard the telltale sounds of a horse approaching from his right. He turned quickly, expecting to see the preacher, instead finding Quentin’s daughter approaching. </p><p>“Y/N?” he asked in surprise. “What are you doing here?”</p><p>“I saw you leave the house,” she said, sliding down from her mount. “And I know you’re meeting Thor. It’s dangerous to go anywhere alone especially with the Horseman about.”</p><p>“I’m surprised you ventured out,” Peter admitted, immediately regretting his words. He couldn’t seem to stop saying the wrong thing around her, and it showed in the annoyance on her face.</p><p>“Because my delicate female constitution can’t handle things like this?” she asked, her eyebrow quirked.</p><p>“N-no,” he stammered, following as she made her way into the churchyard. “I-I only meant because of this morning. When I asked about the Horseman you…I thought I’d offended you.” She blushed softly, something that took Peter by surprise, and looked down to play with a loose thread on her skirt.</p><p>“I’m sorry for how I reacted,” she said meekly. “The Horseman can be a touchy subject. Between him and the other strange things that happen here, I fear Sleepy Hollow might not be long for this world.”</p><p>“What other strange things?” Peter asked, choosing his words carefully. She looked up to study Peter’s face for a moment before she answered him.</p><p>“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors,” she said solemnly. “The Horseman is the most famous but that’s not the only curse that plagues this village. Many of our residents suffer from supernatural afflictions.”</p><p>“The visions?” Peter asked quickly, earning a small chuckle from Y/N.</p><p>“So, you have heard?” she asked with a smirk.</p><p>“A few rumors have made it to New York,” he confirmed, returning the blush that had painted her cheeks a moment ago. “I haven’t paid them much attention. Most of the people who come back and tell them are written off.”</p><p>“Give yourself another night here before you’re so sure,” she replied softly. “The visitors aren’t the only ones afflicted.” Peter stopped in his tracks and looked her over as she pointedly avoided his gaze.</p><p>“Have you-“ he started to ask, only to be interrupted by a loud cracking sound. The pair froze where they were, looking toward the beech tree that towered above them. From within the fog that surrounded them, something rolled along the ground. Peter instinctively reached out to pull Y/N behind him as Thor’s severed head rolled toward them, coming to rest at Peter’s feet. He stared down in shock as Y/N screamed behind him and his stomach dropped. Wind whipped through the branches of the beech, causing them to groan and creak above them. A chill cut through them both, causing Peter and Y/N to pull their cloaks tighter around themselves. As the wind picked up and the tree shook more and more violently, Peter felt a growing sense of dread filling him. Every instinct told him to run, but he couldn’t move. His feet stayed rooted to the ground like the great tree before him. Suddenly, from the base of the tree, a giant shadow emerged. It was formless at first, growing larger until it stood easily a full foot taller than Peter. Slowly, and in a manner that he wouldn’t have believed if he hadn’t witnessed it himself, the shadow shifted and formed into the Headless Horseman. He vaguely registered Y/N saying something behind him as he stared in awe. The giant steed reared up and whinnied, with smoke pouring from its nostrils before he finally understood her.</p><p>“Peter! Go! Now!”</p><p>He shook himself from his stupor and turned to run, following Y/N who was already several yards ahead of him. They raced through the churchyard to their horses as the Horseman’s steed whinnied again behind them. Y/N mounted her saddle quickly, looking back to make sure Peter did too before taking off. Peter kicked Daredevil in the sides and cracked the reins, galloping behind her. He heard the beating of the Horseman’s steed begin to chase them down as he urged his horse as fast as he could go. Chancing a glance to his left Peter saw Y/N cracking her own reins, her face wrought with terror. </p><p>“Don’t look back,” she called, keeping her eyes dead ahead. The sound of hoofbeats grew closer and closer, along with another, stranger sound. It was a loud whining noise, that was somehow eerily familiar to Peter. Steeling his nerves, Peter looked back over his shoulder. Glowing red eyes from the biggest horse he had ever seen stared back at him, much closer than he’d expected. Atop the horse, and holding a pumpkin glowing with pale, blue light, was the Headless Horseman. Even now, staring at this mounted incarnation of Death chasing him down, Peter struggled to believe what he was seeing. The rider was terrifying to be sure, but as he raised what Peter now recognized to be a flaming pumpkin and the whining sound intensified, his terror ebbed slightly, and a feeling of recognition swelled inside him. He struggled to fight it back as the Horseman cocked his arm to make his throw. Peter and Y/N turned a corner to find Steve and the Sleepy Hollow Boys racing toward them at the same frenzied pace. </p><p>“Here!” Steve called, locking eyes with Y/N. The last thing Peter heard before he felt something hard collide with the back of his head was Y/N desperately screaming his name.</p><p>~</p><p>“Peter…Peter…”</p><p>The voice that called to him was one he knew well, but try as he might he couldn’t find her. He wasn’t even sure where he was. Fog rolled around his ankles as he stood, turning in the dark.</p><p>“Peter,” she called again, her voice echoing around him.</p><p>“Aunt May?” he cried, looking desperately for her. “May, I hear you! Where are you?” He spun around again and found himself in a graveyard. May’s tombstone stood before him, causing his heart to clench in his chest.</p><p>“No,” he whimpered softly. “No…not again.” A hand gripped his shoulder and he spun around, hoping to find his aunt but instead coming face to face with another missing piece of his heart.</p><p>“It’s going to be ok, Peter,” Tony said, looking down at him with a sad smile.</p><p>“T-Tony?” he asked with confusion and tears in his voice. “Where am I? What is this?”</p><p>“It’s going to be ok, Peter,” he repeated. “You’ll figure this out. You always do.” Peter blinked once and his surroundings changed again. He was in his childhood home and May was cooking in the kitchen with her back to him. </p><p>“May,” he sobbed, rushing toward her. “Please, help me.” His aunt turned to him with the same warm smile she always wore, wiping her flour-covered hands on her apron.</p><p>“You don’t need my help, my love,” she said. “You have all the tools you need. The Horseman rides at his master’s Beck and call.”</p><p>“The beech tree is the key,” Tony said, appearing beside her. “Trust your instincts. The terrors of the night are the daughter of magic. Solve the riddle. Set Sleepy Hollow free.”</p><p>~</p><p>Peter awoke abruptly, a cold sweat sticking his shirt to his chest. He panted hard and looked around, trying desperately to ground himself. He was back in his room at Quentin’s house and based on the position of the sun in the sky it was sometime in the late afternoon. He had no idea how long he’d been asleep or even what day it was. He scrubbed his face with his hands and took a couple of deep breaths to try and calm himself. Everything he knew had changed in one night. Science couldn’t explain anything that had happened to him in the churchyard or help him understand how the Horseman had come to be. How was he supposed to help this town when he couldn’t even understand what was terrorizing it?</p><p>“I was starting to worry you might never wake,” said a soft voice beside him. Peter’s head snapped up and he turned, noticing Y/N seated beside him. She had a rag that she dipped into a bowl of water before dabbing it against his forehead. He fought to slow his breathing as he closed his eyes again.</p><p>“How long have I been asleep?” he asked, gripping the bedsheets under the comforter. </p><p>“Nearly an entire day,” she replied. She set the rag aside and Peter opened his eyes again, looking over at her. He couldn’t quite read the expression on her face before she turned away, but it seemed to be a mixture of concern and fear. She got up quickly and stepped away, taking the bowl along with her.</p><p>“I had the strangest dream,” Peter mumbled softly, sitting up to lean against the headboard. The memory of the dream was slipping from his mind like water through a sieve and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, trying to hold it in place.</p><p>“You were delirious,” she responded, not looking back at him. “That blow you took looked quite bad.” Last night’s attack came flooding back to his mind along with that same feeling of familiarity he’d felt when he heard the strange whining noise emitting from the Horseman’s weapon. Peter knew he’d heard it somewhere before, but he just couldn’t place it.</p><p>“Was anyone else hurt last night?” he asked, pulling his hands away and blinking his eyes open. Y/N shook her head, her eyes still on the floor.</p><p>“After he attacked you the Horseman vanished,” she said, shuffling in her spot. “We searched everywhere but nobody saw so much as a hoofprint.”</p><p>“I’m so sorry about Thor,” he said softly. “The whole town loved him. He seemed like a good man.”</p><p>“He was,” she acknowledged. “My father told me he was going to meet with you before you went riding. Did he say what for?” Peter looked up and furrowed his brow, studying Y/N’s face for a moment. Something about the night before was playing on his mind, haunting him as the Horseman haunted the Hollow. Quickly, and without a word, he tossed back the covers and jumped out of bed, startling Y/N.</p><p>“Where are you going?” she asked, following close behind him.</p><p>“Where is your father?” Peter asked, not slowing down as he left the room.</p><p>“He’s out for the day,” she answered. “He said something about tending to a service for Thor. Peter, what is it?</p><p>“I didn’t tell anyone I was meeting with Thor,” Peter said as he opened the door to Quentin’s study. “And he specifically told me not to trust your father.”</p><p>“Why would he do that?” she asked, stopping in the doorway. “Thor and my father were friends.”</p><p>“Maybe,” Peter mumbled, looking around the room. “I-I need some time to think. Alone.” Y/N’s face faltered a little and she nodded, backing out of the room and shutting the doors behind her.</p><p>Peter spent the next several hours shut inside Quentin’s study, writing out notes and reading them over. After a while, the words began to blur together so he stood up and started to pace. Try as he might he couldn’t place the sound he’d heard last night, nor could he shake the feeling that the Horseman wasn’t some strange unknown ghost. Something about this felt off, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. He racked his brain and dug through his notes over and over for some kind of explanation, but there was nothing. He continued pacing, the only sound in the air the frustrating creak of the loose floorboard until he heard a soft knock at the door.</p><p>“Come in,” he called, his voice raspy from lack of use. The door opened slowly to reveal Y/N, a silver tray in her hands.</p><p>“I thought you might be hungry,” she said with a small smile. Peter returned it as she set the tray on the desk for him. </p><p>“Thank you,” he said softly, his feet shifting below him to earn another creak from the floor.</p><p>“Have you made any progress?” she asked. Peter sighed and shook his head, running a hand through his hair. </p><p>“I don’t even know what I’m looking for anymore,” he admitted with a sigh.</p><p>“Can I help?” she offered, gently lifting a couple pages of his notes and looking them over. Peter sighed heavily again and started to pace, gritting his teething when the floorboard creaked again. </p><p>“How has this not driven your father mad?” he snapped, looking down. Y/N said something in response, but Peter didn’t register her words. He stared down at the floorboard beneath his foot, confusion furrowing his brow. Something, he wasn’t sure what, was telling him there was something there. He crouched down and ran his hand over the board, pressing down on it to elicit the same creak that had been the bane of his existence all afternoon. When he pressed harder he realized it was hollow underneath.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Y/N asked as Peter stood back up and stomped on the end of the board. As he expected it popped up quickly, revealing a hidden stash below. Both of them gasped as they leaned down and started pulling things out: books, herbs, jars of strange-looking concoctions, and stacks of letters. </p><p>“What is all this?” Peter asked, pulling out a small leather-bound book and flipping it open. The writing inside was all in a language he didn’t understand, but the drawings of daggers and flayed animals didn’t do anything to ease his nerves. </p><p>“I have no idea,” she replied. “I didn’t know any of this was here.” She picked up a few of the jars and turned them over in her hands as Peter picked up the thicker of the two stacks of letters. His heart dropped when he caught sight of the handwriting on the front. Handwriting that he recognized. </p><p>“These are from Tony,” he whispered, running his fingers gingerly over the ink. Y/N looked up and watched as Peter untied the stack and pulled out the first letter. She kept watching him as he read page after page, his eyes flying faster and faster with each one.</p><p>Peter only had one side of the conversation, but he could tell from Tony’s letters that it wasn’t going well. He read as fast as he could, desperate to understand what he was seeing. From what he could gather, Beck was accusing Tony of stealing his designs for some of Tony’s most famous inventions. Tony denied him and accused Beck of being a charlatan and a witch.</p><p>
  <em>Your obsession with witchcraft has blinded you, Quentin. You chose this route because you are well aware that the common man cannot master the skills you have, making those who can the most powerful. If that’s the kind of world you want to leave behind for your daughter, I simply cannot be a part of it. I know the loss of your wife has devastated you, but this is not the way, my old friend. The future of this world is going to be built on science, not sorcery, which is something you’ve clearly lost sight of. I’ve found someone new to guide; to show the secrets locked in my mind and help bring them to light. Good luck, Quentin. If my assumption is right, you’re going to need it.</em>
</p><p>Peter’s heart thudded behind his ribs as he read. He knew Tony was talking about him, but the callousness in his words took him by surprise. It was written in his hand, but it didn’t sound like the Tony he’d come to know, ever encouraging of Peter to explore the corners of his mind. Peter set the pages down and picked up one of the smaller notebooks, opening it gently. This one was one of Beck’s personal journals and the more Peter read, the more deranged it became. He ranted about Tony’s rejection and started detailing his experiments with witchcraft. After a few more pages Peter had to stop, slamming the book shut.</p><p>“Did you know about any of this?” Peter asked, finally tearing his eyes away and looking up at Y/N. She was holding the other, smaller stack of letters and shook her head slowly. </p><p>“These are from Thor,” she whispered, looking ahead with a blank expression. “I-It can’t be.”</p><p>“What do they say?” Peter asked. Her mouth opened to answer when they both heard a noise outside the study.</p><p>“He’s back,” she breathed. She started grabbing some of the jars and books and Peter expected her to put them back under the floorboard, but instead she filled the pockets of her dress and with whatever she could.</p><p>“What are you doing?” Peter whispered as she stood up.</p><p>“Follow me,” she said quietly, kicking the floorboard back into place. Peter sat in stunned silence for a moment until the sound of approaching footsteps shook the fog from his brain. Grabbing Tony’s letters, he rushed after Y/N who was pulling back a curtain on the other side of the room. Behind it was a small door that she pulled open and ushered Peter through.</p><p>“Why is this here?” he asked, ducking his head to fit inside. He found himself in what looked like a long, narrow hallway that dropped off a few yards ahead. </p><p>“My father has made himself a lot of enemies,” she explained. “He had this built in case they ever came for us.” She secured the door behind them, immediately plunging the passage into darkness. Carefully and quietly, she moved around Peter to lead the way. It wasn’t until the darkness set in that Peter was aware of just how terrified he really was.</p><p>“W-Where are we?” he asked, reaching blindly for her. His fingers found her shoulder and he held as tight as he dared as they started slowly forward.</p><p>“Stay close and stay quiet,” she instructed, leading them forward as the path started to slope downward. Peter didn’t answer but nodded, knowing she couldn’t see him. They made their way in silence for what seemed like hours, following the twists and turns of Quentin’s passage. More than once Peter’s head scraped the ceiling or his ankle caught a plank on a sharp turn. He wanted to ask where they were going but his heart was still pumping terror through his veins, so he kept quiet. Eventually, a small light appeared up ahead. Y/N sped up a little when she saw it, and Peter along with her. He could make out her outline now and he could see the tension she was carrying in her shoulders. They hurried forward until the passage opened up and spit them out into the chilled autumn air. Peter wrapped his arms around himself as they exited and turned in his spot, trying to get his bearings. </p><p>“Are we in the western woods?” he asked, shivering against the cold.</p><p>“Just at the edge,” she replied, already walking away. “Come on.”</p><p>“Where are we going now?” Peter asked, jogging after her.</p><p>“Thor’s house,” she said, not even bothering to make sure he was behind her.</p><p>“Y/N will you slow down!” Peter said, running ahead to block her path. “Tell me what’s going on, please.” Her breath came in short pants, rising like a fine mist between them. Both of them shivered as the sun set lower and lower in the sky.</p><p>“You said Thor told you not to trust my father,” she said, waiting for Peter to nod before continuing. “These letters from Thor…they make it seem like my father is involved with the attacks in town.”</p><p>“Involved how?” Peter asked, furrowing his brow in confusion. “He’s the one that called me here. How could he be involved?”</p><p>“That’s why I need to find the other letters,” she explained. “I need to know if it’s true.”</p><p>“I can assure you, it is,” came a reply from behind her. Y/N froze as Peter looked over her shoulder to find the source.</p><p>“Quentin?” he asked as Beck approached them. “How did-“</p><p>“As soon as I found my belongings missing I knew it had to be the two of you,” he said, stopping a few yards away from them. “I had hoped to spare my daughter in all of this but…well this is where we are now.” Y/N, who hadn’t moved since she first heard her father’s voice, finally turned to face him.</p><p>“Tell me you didn’t do this,” she breathed. “Tell me you didn’t use my mother’s magic for this?”</p><p>“Your mother?” Peter asked, desperate to understand. </p><p>“My mother was a witch,” she said, not taking her eyes off her father. “She used her magic to help people. She made sure the harvest was always bountiful and made Sleepy Hollow what it was. One of the side effects of her power was the residents being gifted with visions. She did everything she could to make sure our people were safe and taken care of.”</p><p>“Your mother’s magic was weak,” Beck spat back with venom in his eyes. “She couldn’t even use it to save her own life when she fell ill. I took what she had and did more with it than she could have ever imagined.”</p><p>“You’re using it to kill people!” she screamed, throwing Thor’s letters at his feet. “You killed all of them! Clint, Peggy, Loki, Stephen. Even Thor. It’s been you all along!” Peter’s eyes were wide as saucers as he looked between father and daughter. Beck’s face could have been carved from stone, it was so still, while Y/N’s was contorted into a mask of fury and betrayal. Peter thought back to the scene where Strange’s body had been found and the desperation in Thor’s voice.</p><p>“You’re the Horseman,” Peter muttered, his eyes landing on Beck. The man before him chuckled darkly, shaking his head.</p><p>“Tony spoke of you like some kind of prodigy, but you really are stupid,” he taunted. “No, I’m not the Horseman. He is, however, very much real.”</p><p>“He’s using magic to control the Horseman’s spirit,” Y/N said, her eyes still locked on her father. “That’s what Thor’s letters were about. He saw my father summoning the demon and begged him to stop.”</p><p>“Having to kill him was quite the disappointment,” Beck confirmed with a shrug. “But, after I heard him asking Peter to meet I knew he had to be dealt with.”</p><p>“And the others?” Peter asked, clenching his fists. “You killed your own people. Why?”</p><p>“Barton was merely an opportunity,” he replied. “The Horseman needed a first kill and who better than the town sheriff? When I sent the rider after Ms. Carter, Thor managed to catch me. Once he knew about me I was sure he’d tell his brother, and Loki was always the more vindictive and loose-lipped of the two. I thought that if he lost his head it might keep Thor quiet.”</p><p>“And Strange?” Peter demanded. “What imagined slight did he put forth to incur your wrath?” </p><p>“Stephen and Loki were…involved,” he revealed. “I didn’t care so much what they did in their bedrooms, but I had to assume Loki confided in his lover. I was merely tying up loose ends.”</p><p>“They weren’t loose ends!” Y/N screamed as tears rolled down her face. “They were our friends!” </p><p>“<em>Your</em> friends,” Beck corrected her. “My pawns. Pieces for me to move around in order to get what I really wanted.”</p><p>“And what’s that?” she asked, anger coating her voice. Beck’s face split into a sickening grin as he finally turned his gaze to Peter.</p><p>“You,” he said quietly. </p><p>“M-me?” Peter stammered. “Why? I have nothing to do with any of this. I’ve never even been to Sleepy Hollow before now.”</p><p>“You have EVERYTHING to do with this!” Beck screamed, his voice echoing off the trees around them. Peter and Y/N both flinched at his sudden outburst, and Peter moved himself closer to her as Beck continued. </p><p>“I devoted half my life to Tony Stark,” he seethed. “I spent some of the best years of my career by his side. We could have changed the world together if he had been brave enough to marry science and magic. But he was weak. He lacked the ambition to do what needed to be done. I thought once I left he’d see the error of his ways, but instead, he saw fit to recruit you; a piece of trash he fished out of the gutter. You had no right, no claim to the empire we’d built, yet he pulled you up to replace me. He left you everything that I earned. Everything I deserved! You’re squandering my legacy and you’re too stupid to even realize it.”</p><p>An anger Peter had never felt before coursed through him as he glared back at Quentin. His hands were balled, his fingernails biting into his palms as he debated charging him then and there. Tony had been far from perfect, everyone knew that, but the one thing he’d always made sure Peter knew was that he’d chosen him for a reason.</p><p>
  <em>Men like us have a responsibility to use the knowledge gifted to us to leave this world a better place than we found it. The one thing you have that I’ve always lacked is the ability to see the good in everything around you and build on that. Never let that go, Peter.</em>
</p><p>As he looked over at Beck, Peter realized he was just the opposite. He looked at the world and saw only the flawed and corrupt. In his twisted mind, only he could fix it. And Peter had to stop him.</p><p>“So, why lure me here?” Peter asked. “Why not just come to kill me in New York?”</p><p>“The city is a big place,” Beck answered. “And after Tony died they would have made sure you were too well protected there. I need you here. Exposed. Vulnerable.”</p><p>“Father, please. Stop this.” Y/N’s eyes were flooded with tears and desperation as she pleaded for mercy. “Mother wouldn’t have wanted this for you.”</p><p>“Your mother doesn’t get a say anymore,” he said, pulling a small bottle from inside his cloak. “If you won’t join me, daughter, then I’m afraid you’ll share the same fate as Mr. Parker.” He raised the bottle to his lips and whispered something Peter and Y/N couldn’t make out into the mouth before corking it and throwing it at their feet. The glass shattered and a cloud of thick, black smoke erupted from its remains. It billowed and swirled around them both for a moment before vanishing as quickly as it came.</p><p>“No!” Y/N screamed, staring wide-eyed at her father.</p><p>“The Horseman has both of your names now,” Beck said flatly. “He rides for you tonight.” Y/N fell to her knees and let out a choked sob, the bottles she’d taken from her father’s study clinking together in her pockets. Peter knelt down beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, glaring up at Beck. </p><p>“If you want to kill me then kill me!” he yelled. “Have the decency to do it yourself rather than hiding behind some faceless ghost!” Beck’s already evil grin twisted even more at Peter’s words and he let out a sinister chuckle.</p><p>“Oh no, my dear boy,” He said. “The Horseman may be headless, but he’s far from faceless. When I came here, the legend of the Headless Horseman had already run rampant through the village. But that was all it was; the legend of Sleepy Hollow. Once my plan was in motion it was all too easy to bring him to life. All I needed was a spirit I could corrupt into his form. One that had only recently left this world.” Peter listened in confusion as Beck spun the finale of his tale. He thought back to the form of the Horseman emerging from the tree; the way he shifted and contorted into shape. His mind raced as he remembered the chase and the familiar whining sound he heard coming from the rider. The realization of where he’d heard the sound dropped onto his mind in an instant and Peter felt as if he’d had all the air in his lung forcibly ripped out.</p><p>“N-no,” he stuttered as the memory came back to him. An old invention in the back of Tony’s lab that whined in the same manner whenever he forced it to life. Peter must have heard it a thousand times when Tony would get bored and try to fix it. Beck chuckled again as he watched Peter work out the horrifying truth. </p><p>“That’s right,” he said, confirming Peter’s fear. “You’re going to see your old mentor again as he claims your head. Tell Tony I said hello.” With that final taunt, Beck turned and left as the last bits of sunlight vanished from the sky.</p><p>Darkness pressed in around them as Peter sat on the cold ground, his arm still around Y/N. Both of them were silent and unmoving, listening to the sounds of the woods that seemed all too likely to serve as their graves. Peter’s ear perked slightly as he realized every sound was slowly fading away. First, the hooting of the owls died, followed by the scurrying of animals along the ground, and finally the whistle of the wind in the trees. He sat up slightly and looked around, but even the faint light from the moon overhead seemed unable to penetrate the night that blanketed them.</p><p>“Y/N, we have to go,” he whispered, his eyes still darting around. </p><p>“Go where?” she asked. Defeat laced her tone and Peter could tell from the thickness in his voice that tears did as well. He stood slightly and pulled gently on her arms, trying to get her to her feet. </p><p>“Anywhere but here,” he said. “Please we can’t stay here. He’s coming.”</p><p>“There’s nowhere safe,” she said. “He’ll find us and he’ll take our heads. My father has doomed us.” A twig snapped somewhere nearby, making Peter jump. He kept trying to pull Y/N to her feet as his mind raced to form a plan. He suddenly remembered the vision of Tony he’d seen in his dream and the words he’d spoken after the Horseman’s attack. </p><p>
  <em>The beech tree is the key.</em>
</p><p>“The churchyard,” Peter said quietly, dropping back to his knees and cupping Y/N face in his hands and forcing her to look at him. “Y/N, the tree in the churchyard. We have to get there.” Her brow furrowed slightly and she cocked her head in his hand as he spoke.</p><p>“The tree?” she asked. “Why?”</p><p>“I can’t explain,” he said, shaking his head. “I just know. The beech tree is the key. Did your mother teach you any of her magic?”</p><p>“A-a little,” she said with a nod. “But father made me stop after she died.” In the distance, both of them heard the faint sound of a horse whinnying.</p><p>“He’s coming,” Peter breathed. “Come on.” Y/N finally scrambled to her feet and Peter took her hand in his as they took off toward the town. The trees here weren’t very thick and Peter could just make out the silhouette of the church, but it seemed miles away. Their footsteps thudded against the wood of the bridge leading into town and their breath clouded the air in front of them as they ran as fast as their legs would carry them. They turned onto the street that would lead them to the church and stopped dead in their tracks when they saw the giant horse reared up on its hind legs at the end, it’s headless rider brandishing his broadsword above him. Peter put his arm out and moved Y/N behind him, staring down at the Horseman. As the great steed’s hooves hit the ground and Peter readied himself for the coming attack, the sound of more thundering hooves came from behind them. </p><p>“Move!” came a cry and Peter felt Y/N grab him and drag him out of the way. He looked up just in time to see the Sleepy Hollow Boys fly past them, heading straight for the Horseman. </p><p>“Run!” Steve yelled at him. “We’ll hold him off!” The pair ran down the side street away from the fight just as a single gunshot rang through the air.</p><p>“This way,” Y/N instructed. She ducked down a nearby alley and Peter followed close behind, letting her knowledge of the town lead the way. They crept along quietly, the sound of the fighting fading behind them. They kept themselves low, praying the cover of the night would keep them hidden until they saw the church come back into view at the end of the alley. Y/N looked out around the buildings and motioned for Peter to follow her. They crossed the street and slipped into the churchyard, quickly making their way toward the tree. It seemed to almost sense their approach, creaking and groaning despite the stillness of the air.</p><p>“Now what?” Y/N asked as they stood under the branches. Peter stepped forward and crouched down, brushing his fingers over the dirt at the base of the tree.</p><p>“This is where the Horseman came from,” he mumbled to himself, digging his fingers slightly into the earth. “Help me.” She nodded and crouched down next to him and they both began to dig. It wasn’t long before her fingers hit something solid. Peter’s eyes widened as they moved faster, pulling out a small, wooden box.</p><p>“It’s a spell box,” she said softly, brushing the dirt from the lid. “One of my mother’s.”</p><p>“Can you open it?” Peter asked cautiously. She nodded and turned a small knob on the side, springing the lid open suddenly. She set the box on the ground and began to empty the contents: some small bones, dried plants, a few crystals, and a piece of parchment. </p><p>“A binding spell,” she breathed, shaking her head. “And a strong one. Normally with a spell like this, a spirit is bound to an object or a person, but my father’s bound Tony’s spirit to the actual legend of the Headless Horseman.”</p><p>“Can you break it?” he asked desperately. </p><p>“If we burn this,” she said, holding up the parchment. “That should sever the tie. But I don’t have anything to start a fire with.” May’s words from Peter’s dream flashed back into his mind as he stared around the churchyard for something to help.</p><p>
  <em>You have all the tools you need.</em>
</p><p>He stood up quickly and patted at his pockets, finding the fire starter kit Tony had given him for his last birthday in his breast pocket. He dropped back to his knees and reached for the parchment. </p><p>“Give it here,” he said, but Y/N didn’t move. Her eyes were fixed over his shoulder and she pointed with a shaky hand.</p><p>“P-Peter,” she whimpered. Slowly, Peter turned around to face what he already knew was coming. The Horseman sat atop his steed, just outside the gates to the church, still as Death. Had it not been for the smoke coming from his horse’s nose he wouldn’t have believed he was really standing before him, waiting to cleave his head from his shoulders. With a shuddering breath, Peter slipped the kit into Y/N’s hand.</p><p>“Strike the flint hard as you can until you get a spark,” he instructed. “I’ll hold him off.” Y/N protested but Peter ignored her, walking slowly toward the gate. The Horseman didn’t move as Peter made his way forward. </p><p>“Peter, no!” Y/N called from behind him. He kept going until he passed the gate, his eyes still locked on the Horseman.</p><p>“Tony,” he said, his voice cracking. “Tony, I’m so sorry. I’m sorry Beck did this to you. I’m sorry I wasn’t smart enough to see through his plan. I should have been. But you can fight this. You’re stronger and smarter than he could ever dream of being. Tony, I know you don’t want to hurt me. Please, don’t let him win.” The Horseman remained still as Peter spoke, never so much as flinching. His stillness spread to the air around him, chilling Peter to the bone. Behind him, he could hear Y/N striking the flint over and over and he prayed she’d be able to light in time to save herself. He watched, frozen in terror, as the Horseman’s steed reared up and he charged at Peter, his sword raised high. Peter didn’t move, but squeezed his eyes shut, waiting to meet his fate.</p><p>Only it never came. He heard the beating of the horse’s hooves getting closer and closer and then they suddenly stopped. Air rushed around him and then, silence. After a moment, he took a chance and opened his eyes. The Horseman’s sword was drawn and stopped in mid-air, only inches from his neck. Peter gasped and stumbled back a few steps, his eyes traveling upward. The Horseman had seemed to freeze again, almost as though time had stopped around him. A crackling sound from behind him caught his attention and Peter looked back to the tree. Y/N stood under it, the spell box on the ground beside her engulfed in flames. </p><p>“She did it,” he whispered, letting out a sigh of relief. She ran toward the gate at the same time he did and threw herself into his arms. </p><p>“Are you ok?” she asked softly, shaking in Peter’s arms. </p><p>“Thanks to you,” he replied, holding her tight. </p><p>“NO!”</p><p>Peter and Y/N turned toward the scream and saw Beck running toward the church.</p><p>“What have you done?” he wailed, his eyes bulging. Peter kept Y/N tight against him as he faced Beck.</p><p>“It’s over, Quentin,” he said. “You’ve lost-“</p><p>“IT’S NOT OVER!” he screamed. “You can’t beat me!” As Beck continued to scream, something else caused Peter and Y/N’s to turn from his screaming and back to the scene before them. The Horseman, previously frozen, had begun to move. His body shimmered and twisted, changing shape from the grotesque demonic one back into that of the man Tony Stark had been. Where his neck bluntly ended before they saw his head slowly return until Peter was once again looking at his mentor. His breath caught in his chest and tears filled his eyes as Tony smiled down at him. He didn’t speak, but the look on his face spoke volumes in a way that only Peter could read. Beck, who was still ranting, didn’t notice as Tony heard him and slowly turned his head. The calm expression he’d worn turned into one of anger and hatred as he kicked his heels into his steed. When the horse whinnied and reared up again Beck finally turned and realized the Horseman had abandoned him, and only Tony remained. </p><p>“No. NO!” He screamed again, turning to run from the church. Tony’s horse hit the ground running and caught up to Beck with ease. Tony reached out and grabbed him by the collar, hoisting him up and throwing him over the back of his horse. Beck’s screams of protest continued as Tony held him in place, looking back at Peter one final time. He nodded once and Peter returned it slowly.</p><p>“Rest well, Tony,” he whispered. With a last whinny, Tony took off into the woods with Beck in his grip. Unlike Peter’s first night in Sleepy Hollow, tonight he clearly heard the screams as the Headless Horseman claimed his final victim.</p><p>Peter stayed another week in Sleepy Hollow to help reassure the residents their nightmare was over. The Sleepy Hollow Boys, who had all managed to survive their meeting with the Horseman, believed that they had wounded him enough to drive him from their borders, and Peter and Y/N agreed not to challenge them. Letting the Boys take credit was easier than trying to explain the truth.</p><p>Y/N was handling the loss of her father far better than Peter thought she would. She shed a few tears for him, but seemed more relieved than anything else. </p><p>“He stopped being my father a long time ago,” she said repeatedly, and Peter decided it better not to push her. On the seventh day after Quentin’s death, Peter was loading his things back onto a carriage that was chartered and ready to take him home. He turned for one last look at the village when he saw Y/N walking toward him. </p><p>“Were you really going to leave without saying goodbye?” she asked, causing his face to flush.</p><p>“Well, I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me off,” he admitted. “All of this was my fault. I’m so sorry, Y/N.” She stepped forward and took his hands in hers, shaking her head.</p><p>“This was my father’s fault,” she said sternly. “He lost his way long ago and just chose to blame you.” Peter smiled back at her and squeezed her hands, nodding slowly.</p><p>“If you ever make it to the city, please visit me,” he said softly. </p><p>“And if you ever find yourself back in Sleepy Hollow you’ll always have a bed and a warm meal.” Tears shone in her eyes as she let go of his hands and turned to leave. Peter watched her for a few steps before he reacted. </p><p>“Y/N, wait!” he called, running after her. She turned just in time for him to cup her face gently and press his lips to hers. She was shocked for a moment, then wrapped her arms around him and kissed him back. For the first time since he’d left New York, Peter felt no fear. All he knew was his lips against hers and her arms around him. He broke away after a minute and rested his forehead against her as they held each other close. </p><p>“I’m going to miss you, Peter,” she said, pulling back to look up at him. He nodded and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear, smiling softly. </p><p>“What if I stayed?” he asked. He could tell his question took her by surprise and waited with bated breath as she considered it. Slowly, a smile wider than he’d seen since he came to the Hollow spread across her face, and his own followed soon thereafter. </p><p>“I thought you’d never ask,” she answered, pulling him down to kiss him again. </p>
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